Home Remedy
by Morganperidot
Summary: Kitty and Robert have an emotional confrontation.


Home Remedy

By Morganperidot

When Kitty Walker McAllister returned from Mexico, she went home, back to the house she shared with Robert. The house was dark and quiet, and though it was late, she thought Robert might still be at work. If he was home, she didn't know how he would react to seeing her there. She knew she had hurt him by choosing to alienate him rather than make a continued effort at working things through. In Mexico she had seen the pain in his eyes and heard it in his voice before he walked away. Robert was a strong man, very powerful in the political sphere. But there was another side to him, a personal side, hidden from the world, which was vulnerable and could be deeply wounded. He had hurt her by putting his ambition ahead of her and their family, and she had hurt him back by pushing him away, the one true thrust that would go through the armor he wore and straight to his heart.

She found him in the nursery, curled up in what looked like an uncomfortable position on a chair. His tie was off but he still wore a crisp white shirt with only one button unbuttoned, a pair of dark pants, and his socks and shoes. Kitty took off her shoes and walked quietly past him to where Evan was sleeping soundly. Evan looked peaceful, and that was a relief. She didn't want the stress between Robert and her to affect him. She looked back at Robert, and his stiffness and discomfort made her heart hurt.

Kitty went to a linen closet in the hallway and got out a quilt that was in the back of one of the shelves. It wasn't one of the more expensive things they had, but it was one of her favorites, soft and warm, homey, real. She went back and laid the quilt on Robert gently. He stirred a bit, and she waited to see if he would wake. His eyes didn't open, so she walked out of the nursery.

She went to their bedroom where she changed into a full-length teal nightgown and then slipped under the covers of the bed. Kitty didn't pretend that she thought she would sleep; her mind was too full of battling ideas for that to happen. She had told Robert and Kevin that she wanted to move to Pasadena to be with her family, but that wasn't really true. The fear Robert had voiced in Mexico wasn't baseless: It was very possible that if she made that physical break from him, putting that much space between them, she might never return. She could see herself surrounded by her family, letting her disgust for Robert's ambition eat away at what was left of their bond. She loved him, but she knew she could let him go; she was strong enough for that. Robert knew that too, but he was torn between his ambition and his love. Kitty understood that; she always had, but too many times she came out on the short end of the conflict. He continued to choose to put his ambition first, believing somehow that she would just adapt to that over time. Kitty was tired of it though, tired of being consistently second to politics, and her love was losing the battle to hang on.

But if she let go, then what? If she let things collapse she went the way of her parents and her sister Sarah and her brother Tommy, whose broken relationships were part of the Walker family landscape. And personally, how would she feel when she saw Robert with someone else, eventually, someone who could stand strong in the whirlwind of his political drive, or worse, someone who used that drive to further their own ambitions…or perhaps even worse than that he could simply be engulfed by his own ambition and become lost in the way that so many other politicians were. She didn't want to see Robert used or hurt more, and if she let him go she knew he would be gone for good, she wouldn't be able to protect him or his heart from whatever darkness might close in.

Kitty laid there staring at the ceiling, trying to work her thoughts around all the jagged edges in her mind. She had believed for so long that she and Robert "fit," that they were meant to be together. If she stayed, would he be willing to give at all, or would things just return to the status quo? Would she just be digging a bigger hole that their love wouldn't be enough to fill? She needed to talk to him, really talk, without all of the meetings and speeches and polls and craziness of his office. Was there still a part of him that could be separated from that? She wasn't sure anymore.

Kitty got off the bed and walked back into the nursery. She gently set her hand on Robert's arm, and after a moment his eyes opened. He looked at her and then over at Evan. "He's OK," she said softly. "I need to talk to you." She saw a hint of sadness in his eyes, and then he stood up without a word and set the quilt on the chair. She went back to the bedroom, and he followed her there.

"I thought you were going to Pasadena," Robert said, without looking at her, his tone disengaged, distant, self-protective.

"I was," Kitty said.

"Did something happen?" he asked automatically, suggesting that he assumed there was some new trauma in her family. He was unbuttoning his shirt and looking in the closet for hanger. Kitty knew he didn't want to hear about her family; he was as tired of that as she was of his work.

"No, I just…"

"I can have some people come to help with the packing," Robert said.

"Robert, look at me," Kitty said. He turned, and she could see that the mask was in place, the one that he wore for the public. He was broadcasting a desire for distance, but Kitty ignored it; she moved closer to him, close enough to really see him. He made no move to touch her, so she made the first move, reaching out for his bare chest…and he stepped back.

"I'm not doing this," Robert said.

"Doing what?" Kitty said. "Letting down these…"

"Saying good-bye like this," Robert said, and he walked out of the room. Saying good-bye like… And then she saw it, what he saw, one last roll in the hay for the road before they parted ways.

Kitty followed him into the hallway. "Robert, that isn't what this is," she said.

"I have to do some things," Robert said, facing away from her and buttoning up his shirt. "I'll be at the office."

"Don't do that," Kitty said.

Robert looked at her then, and the mask slipped enough that she could see the pain in his eyes. "What do you want from me?" he asked. "I'm not ready yet for any of this, to act mature and strong, like none of this matters. I can't do that now."

"I don't want you to act like anything, Robert," Kitty said. "This isn't some charity dinner where you have to…"

"I did everything I could," Robert said.

"No, you didn't," Kitty said.

"Damn you," Robert said, and he walked away, but she followed him, through the dark house, not letting go, not this time, not yet.

"Say it," Kitty said. "What else is there to lose?"

Robert stopped, and she could see how hard it was, all of the feelings at once, the needs, the desires, all mixed up together. "I shouldn't have to give it up," he said. "I shouldn't have to settle." Kitty stayed silent and let him have the time. "I want it," he said. "I want to be governor. I can't give it up now."

"You want it more," Kitty said.

Robert turned on her then, so angry and so hurt that she almost took a step back, but she knew she had to stand her ground. "No," he said, "not more. I wish it were more, because then it wouldn't feel like this. No matter what I do I betray someone, myself or you. And I can't accept either one."

Kitty could see the glimmer of another facet here, something that wasn't about ambition and power, something more primal…something more human. "There so much BS wrapped up in it…"

"You're my wife," Robert said, and the rawness was there, the exposed nerve, all of it, the terrible depth of alienation, loss, pain, and fear. It wasn't about her not supporting his campaign for governor; it was about her not supporting him, betrayal of the kinship between them not betrayal of their vows. Kitty didn't have the words to surmount this; there was nothing she could say that could. She was silent, and he turned away again. She could feel the big rip that was tearing through the fabric of what they had built, everything they had been and wanted to be. It all hung by the proverbial thread, and when that was gone it would never be fixed. He would never let her back in again, she knew that for certain. And in that fraction of a second she knew she had to decide whether she could live with that.

She reached out for his hand and grasped it, holding on when he tried to pull it away. "It's over," he said softly. "I've known for a long time, but I couldn't do it. You're stronger than me, tougher. I just kept trying, even though I knew there was no way. I kept trying to work it out, but there's no answer to this." He looked down at their hands, but Kitty knew he didn't see what she saw. "I need to go," he said. "I can't be here."

"I need you here, Robert," Kitty said.

"I won't…"

"I know," Kitty said. "You don't have to do anything. You don't have to be anything."

Robert tugged his hand, but she didn't release it. So many men would have forced it, in anger or despair, but he didn't. "Please let go," he said.

"Please stay," Kitty said.

"Why?" Robert said. "What's left?"

"You and me," Kitty said. "You still want that."

"And you don't," Robert said. "You can't forgive me."

"I want you to put me first sometimes," Kitty said. "I want you to consider what I think and what I want and not just dismiss it out of hand. If you're my husband, Robert, you have to compromise. You have to. It isn't a choice." She held onto to his hand for a moment longer, and then released it because she expected him to balk at the ultimatum. It wasn't like they hadn't been around this before. There was no reason to expect that this would work rather than just push him over the edge.

Robert stood there for a long moment, silent, then glanced at the door before looking back at her. "I probably don't need to go in this early," he said.

Kitty held her surprise in check. "Good," she said. She smiled, then approached him and waited to see if he would withdraw. When he didn't, she brought her fingers to his shirt buttons and undid them, then gently traced the scar on his chest from the heart surgery. "How do you feel?" she asked.

"Healthy," Robert said. He closed the space between them and kissed her firmly and passionately, igniting Kitty's already stoked passion.

"I think we should take it slow anyway, just to be sure," Kitty said softly. She kissed his scar lightly. She didn't think he was physically fragile, but then there was also no reason to rush things.

"Thank you," Robert said.

Kitty looked in his eyes. "None of this means that I'm giving in to you," she said.

Robert laughed then, a real laugh. "I would never expect that," he said. "I just meant thank you for coming here." Evan started to cry then, and Kitty headed in the direction of the nursery. When she got there she took the baby in her arms and walked with him. Robert stood in the doorway looking rumpled and tired but also happy for the first time in a long time. "I'm going to work on priorities," he said. Kitty smiled.


End file.
